Victims
by Jun
Summary: Every one has a story....
1. Default Chapter

Victims: Toys In The Attic  
  
The eerie silence was pierced by the sound of a bullet, and the raspy breathing from a man's chest. A certain fear had over come Bob as smoke left the barrel of his Bennelli, the hot lead sliced silently into the creeping, growing, persisting mist. Sweat poured in raped torrents down his face and stinging his eyes. Blinking Furiously, the droplets seemed to rain down having no mercy upon his optic orbs. Behind the oncoming eerie smoke like substance lurked beings that you could only imagine in your nightmares. Spawned demonic creatures from hell shrieked and roared, only making the chase faster. Each vocalization from those wrenched beasts pierced the air, rattling the eardrums until the point where they'd burst. Maybe the shot killed one of those fuckers. Bob thought as his chest pounded heavily with the quick and rapid beats of his heart, and his legs were at burning from the vigorous running. "Bob, wait!" a familiar voice beckoned from behind him. He turned around to see his friend Jim, frantically limping to him from his left. His heart and mind found joy in the knowledge that his best friend was still alive, but he was cross with him nonetheless. "Damnit, Jim! I thought I told you to get out of town!" Firing into the mist, his last shell was used, and the unseen terrors that lurked inside that gray hazy veil let out another ear-peircing screech of rage and pain. Red pain. Post haste he dropped his shotgun and pulled out his 9mm that was homed at his left hit holster. He continued the onslaught of burning lead, hoping it would sear the flesh of the nightmarish creatures, which perused them. A quick glance behind him let his brain try to think of an escape. "Jim, get into the hotel!" He screamed as he neared the end of his clip. Too soon did the gun run out of ammo, dropping his gun he ran towards Jim who held the front door open to the desolate hotel. A desperate attempt to hurry he jumped and slid inside the building, Jim slamming the doors behind him. "Lock the doors!" Bob yelled. Fear enveloped his body and terror glimmered in his eyes, "THERE ARE NO LOCKS!" Jim yelled back. No sooner had he finished the gray mass tore through the doors like tissue paper, and sent Jim flying into the check-in desk. Wood and blood were cascaded into the air and seemed to flow in such ironic grace and landed in eerie silence. Unconscious Jim lay amongst the rubble, while Bob high-tailed it up the stairs and to the other rooms. As Jim came to, the mist was only inches away and frantically trying to get away, but alas to no avail. Engulfing his body, blood- curdling screams came forth from the oozing shadow of death. Bob heard his screams and his skin flushed cold and goose flesh pricked his skin. Loud popping and snapping sounds also came from the gray mist, along with the last gurgled scream of pure terror. Tired and desperate, Bob turned into the nearest room, and quickly locked the door behind him. The room was small and dark, only a pair of stairs going up. Quickly he galloped the short flight of steps until he was in the attic. Again locking another door, he sat and panted. A tormented soul, full of fear; and a body stinging and aching from muscle exhaustion, he fell to the floor, and thought to himself out loud and barely above a whisper. "It's back.and it's stronger this time." Slowly he backed into a corner of the room. "But why now?.why me?" He fell silent. A creeping mist seemed to curl itself in long claws under the door. The icy hand of fear gripped his heart as it skipped a beat. Something solid bumped the door. "Somebody," He screamed, the door was jostled, "Anybody!" The door came forth in splinters, with a rush of the concealing smoke. Bob was forever more silent, and a victorious roar from the unseen evil beyond the fog was heard. Then is slipped away just as silently as it had creped in, leaving nothing behind. 


	2. Misery

A/N I meant to put the first story in the horror category, sorry for any misleading.  
Victims: Misery  
  
For her it was a normal day. Though she could never remember the pleasant town of Silent Hill being so cold. It was actually.unusual. Barbara sat inside the local diner sipping her usual morning coffee. The smell was pleasant as she picked up her cup. Rejuvenating, awakening, warm, and comforting the java barely touched her lips as they found homage on the rim of the white porcelain jug. In this routine, she read the morning papers. Nothing too exiting, home lost to visitor 3-15 on the sports [page highlights, Calvin and Hobbs causing more mischief than need be, and same political bastard is trying to right wrongs in the stock market. How exiting, how terribly exiting. A heavy sigh was released from her chest. The coffee was finished, her reading was done and now it was time to pay the usual 85 cents that she owed. Calmly she dug in the pockets of her trench coat, looking down. "Sorry John, I'm gonna come up a little short today." She wrapped her hand around 3 quarters and a dime. There was no response. " I'll pay you back I promise." She said with her head still looking downward but still no response. "Here you go jo." Her voice was choked off by her surprise. "hn.?" The portly man that seemed so cheery and grateful for life everyday, was gone. Disappeared with out a trace. She looked around, and turned to see the outside. Everything was silent.so very, very silent. An eerie breeze swept through the diner, sending shivers down her spine. No birds were singing, no cars were running up and down the streets, no human being was present. This place turned as creepy as a ghost town in a matter of minutes. Barbra's looked over the bar table to see if he was down there, getting something. As she feared it would be, he wasn't there. Small beads of sweat started to coat her body in a cool outward wave. Looking outside again, she expected to see the deserted streets, but instead, her eyes were met with a hedge creeping wall of grey mist. It seemed to engulf the buildings, slowly yet surely. But something else caught her eyes. On the once empty street corner a hooded figure had resided itself in that emptiness. Tall, broad shouldered and dressed completely in black, this person stood at the edge of the mist. A twinge of panic came over her as the figure came towards her with agonizingly slow speed. It seemed to float on the mist, not walk. Around this cloaked beings feet, the shadow gray substance seemed to whip around him, like a flickering fire. Her thoughts raced to find an answer.  
  
There wasn't one. "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!" No logic came through to her, but fear had pounced and its huge paws had engulfed her. Barbara got up, busted through the doors and ran down the street. She heard one sound, but it brought with it, no sort of comfort. Steal scratching the asphalt. looking behind her, the eerie cloaked figure speed up towards her. Confusion swarmed her mind as she ran away, more rapidly her heart pounded in her chest, more quickly did she move her legs. Unfortunately, the faster she ran, the faster it came for her, and the louder the scraping sound became. A quick turn to the left led her down an ally way. Running faster and breathing harder, sweat spats formed around her neck and grew from under her arms. It seemed forever until she reached the end of the ally way. As like most things today it too brought no ease to her soul. It was a dead end. With nowhere to run she crouched in a damp corner behind a dumpster, peeking out to see if the thing that was perusing her was there. Listening the scratching sound seemed distant, but the eerie, oozing mass of grayness passed silently and wistfully. Little did she realize, but a few seconds after the mist had passed her, she too was concealed with in it. The persuior wasn't in sight and wasn't in sound. Slowly she stood and stalked to the end of the ally. It seemed shorter now, but adrenaline was coursing through her blood stream. Nothing. That was what she saw. Only the gray mist and the faded outlines of once vivid buildings . A sigh of relief escaped her and she closed her eyes. She ran fingers through her hair and bent her head down. A dark shadow overcastted her body, and the smell of melting iron singed her nose. Slowly she looked behind her, and the evil dark figure raised an immerse, crude rusted blade. Tears formed quickly as she lightly spoke out. "Please." A step backward and a shake of her head, "Please, oh please no!" She began to weep as she took another step backward. Swiftly the blade swung in the air, slightly whistling. Barbara's head landed on the ground before her foot did. Her murderer floated over her, and disappeared into the mist whence he came.leaving nothing behind. 


End file.
